


The Death and Times of Thomas Thorne

by TealTears



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Death, Gen, Ghosts, More tags will be added later, Period-Typical Homophobia, not much dialogue, thomas and kitty have the best friendship, thomas thorne is a dramatic bitch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25433020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TealTears/pseuds/TealTears
Summary: Thomas Thorne; Regency Era Poet, second born son, and disaster of the highest order.When Thomas gets himself killed in a duel he expects death to be a lot quieter than it actually is.Adding for later updates: The first five chapters were written Pre-Season 2(Not been proof read- all mistakes are mine)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	1. Prologue

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Thomas had always imagined that death would be peaceful. 

As a poet, and prone to bouts of melancholy feelings, he had considered death before. His main muse was love and all of the facets that accompanied that feeling but he had, at times, used death as his muse. 

Peaceful. Forever content. Whatever you want, whatever you’ve dreamed, forever available to you. 

He soon discovered that this was not the case.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────


	2. The Events Leading Up To and the Death of one Thomas Thorne

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

The grass under him was wet with the morning dew. The sun was just rising over the grounds of Thorne Manor, casting long shadows in the mist. The first bird song of the morning was echoing across the field and there was a chill coming from the lake.

He was shivering slightly in the early morning but refused to wear a jacket. The sleeves would impede his ability to shoot and that really was the last thing he wanted. He was staring at the horizon waiting for the sound of hooves, signalling the arrival of his rival. He toyed with the box in his hands, fiddling with the catch. 

Inside were his fathers guns. Family heirlooms that had been left to him and his brother after he’d died. They were a simple duo of pistols but they’d been used in duels before, they’d seen a lot in their time. He placed the box at his feet, feeling as though the wood was searing his hands. 

The guilt was already gnawing at his gut. This was a dramatic step for what some would consider a small grievance. However, in Thomas’ eyes the stealing of work was unforgivable! He possibly could have considered a less dramatic approach had Lord Byron not then passed his work off as his own. 

In the beginning, he knew his work had been stolen but not by who. He had come back after a trip into the city to find his desk and room ransacked. The rest of the house had been untouched so it was clearly someone with a vendetta against him. His brother (Edmund Thorne, four years his senior) had convinced him to ignore it; he couldn’t go round accusing all the poets in Surrey and surrounding of stealing his work lest he make a few more enemies. Turns out, in the end, he didn’t have too. A few months later, reading a column in the paper, he found his work. HIS work, word for word. Not even bastardisation of his work. The thief had ripped it off and placed their name, clear as day, underneath. 

𝔏𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔅𝔶𝔯𝔬𝔫

If Thomas wasn’t pissed before, her certainly was now. This was not the first time Byron had passed his work off as his own but it would certainly be the last. He’d written a letter, demanding that Byron apologise or Thomas was going to tale tis further. He’d sent a messenger to Byron’s estate and within a few hours he’d had a reply with two dates and two times. 

The first was a date for their seconds to meet to try and discuss this for them. The second was obviously a date for a duel, should it get that far. 

Thomas had approached his brother to be his second. He’d been less than pleased but was willing to negotiate his behalf. Edmund had never understood his brother- Thomas had always had his head in the clouds since he could talk. He’d almost thought it lucky that Thomas was the younger; he wouldn’t have to marry for status or anything along those lines. He could marry for love or not even marry at all if he wanted. The family fortune could see him through if he wanted. 

Edmund had met with Byron’s second and had come back to Thorne Manor in a sombre mood. Byron was refusing to admit he had stolen any work; nothing could be proven as there were no copies or anything with Thomas’ signature on. According to Byron, Thomas was just attempting to drag his name through the mud because he was more successful than him. There was nothing Edmund could do, really, other than argue his corner. It was one word against the other with no solid proof on either side. 

He had come back to Thomas with an apology and three bottles of cheap wine. There was a week until the date proposed by Byron in the original letter and they planned to spend that week preparing for all of the eventual outcomes. 

They spent the week writing and re-writing letters to certain people. Mainly their mother (Thomas wrote one to his brother in secret) and planning what happens should Thomas get hurt. Byron was brining a doctor so they were prepared to not expect medical attention. The plan was for Edmund to be there as his second still and he knew enough basic first aid to tide them over until they could reach a doctor. 

This was the plan. However, four days before the original date another letter from Byron appeared- a change. Two days from now. Thomas agreed. He disposed of the letter before his brother could see it and didn’t tell him about the change. This was why he was now stood alone in the grounds. 

He was snapped out of his daydreams by the noise of horses and the laughter of men. Looking up from the floor toward the edge of the grounds he steel’d his gaze. He was terrified but would not let them see that. He was the true definition of a lover not a fighter. The hooves on the grass were deafening, breaking up the sombre mood of the morning. Byron and his crew pulled up in front of him, looking smug and better prepared than he was. 

Thomas picked the box up from the grass, wiping the mud from the bottom as Byron dismounted. There was little talking. Not much to say. Thomas didn’t have a second so there was no meeting needed there. Just a few curt words and Byron choosing a pistol. 

There was a reminder of the etiquette; hand shake, ten paces, fire after the count of ten. Byron’s second watched the handshake and asked the doctor to turn round. He stepped back- take your paces! 

The silence of the dawn had been broken by the horses and was now being interrupted again by the sound of shoes on grass. The dew was soaking into Thomas shoes and the hairs on his arms were standing on end. He was in his own head as he took the paces, almost forgetting where he was. A part of his brain was telling him to run- he was walking back in the direction of the manor after all- but the sensible side told him he had to do this. Had to prove himself once and for all. 

7 

Step

8

Step

9

Step

The crack of a gun filled the air 

He thought his ears deceived him. That couldn’t have been a fire. He hadn’t even turned yet, hadn’t even begun the count to fire. The shot rang out and Thomas watched as the birds flew from the trees, their peace disturbed by the sound. He gasped, his breath fogging in front of his eyes and he fell to his knees. The gun falling at his feet as his left hand tentatively touched his side. He was almost sick as he pulled his hand away to see the blood. He could faintly heat Byron laughing behind him but didn’t have the strength to turn and look. 

He heard the noise of men and hooves retreating as he slipped. He was face down in the grass and no way to help himself or even get back to the manor. He was too far to walk and his brother wouldn’t be up yet. Thomas was the early bird, not Edmund. 

Once he calmed himself down he started thinking of a plan. He was bleeding heavily but slowly, the bullet had exited which was both a relief and a curse. The wound was straight through so chance of survival was low. They’d discussed this previously; as much as a lodge bullet was not great but it could be lucky and buy precious minuets as it would stem the flow. It seems Thomas was not so lucky. 

After what seemed like an age he managed to push himself back up onto his knees. He was weak and his vision was blurry, couldn’t see a thing over the haze that was settling in his field of vision. He could just make out a tree off to the side and he started to crawl his way there. At least he could sit up and wait for someone to find him. More dignified than face down in the grass. 

His sense of hearing had gone, the sound of silence was all he could hear despite being able to see multiple birds around him. He was still cold and getting colder by the minuet. His hands felt like ice and his breathing was getting progressively shallower. The tree seemed out of reach. 

He blacked out. 

He came too by the tree, slumped against it and hand over the wound. Still no sign of his brother, or anyone. The sun was up, evaporating the mist that had settled previously, and warming the area around him. He could feel the sun on his face but it was doing nothing. Perhaps it was even making him colder. Thomas sat there, his mind working at a rapid pace- Byron had cheated and no one would know. Byron had bested him at his own game and no one would ever know the truth. He had been shot on his own families grounds and left for dead. Edmund was right, any doctor Byron brought was not going to help him. 

He felt his body jerk and he gasped- that hurt, what was hurting? His brain seemed to quiet at the sudden pain and Thomas realised he should start making peace with himself. He was about to die and he was ready to accept that. He had to accept that because no one was coming to help. 

He thought about his letter to Edmund- he’d crept into his room hours earlier and left it on his side table. The one explaining to his brother what he’d done and if he was not at the manor, where he could find his body. There were three on his desk; one to his mother, another to Edmund (more personal), and one to his friend. The only other person who would miss him when he was gone. He hadn’t told his friend about this duel, he knew that it would be pointless. He would tell Thomas he was being ridiculous and reckless and that he had better come back to him or he’d kill Byron himself. 

He’s who Thomas was going to miss the most. 

His thoughts of his friend seemed to be the last ones he had. He felt his body jerk once more and stiffen as his eyes fell shut. He wasn’t sure what he expected once he was not living anymore but he was prepared for anything... 

... or so he thought.

His eyes opened and he was in exactly the same place. Nothing different about it. He blinked a few times and cast his eyes around- yes, this was still the manors grounds and it seemed he was still alive?

He pushed himself up gently, feeling lighter but not knowing why. He went to take a breath but realised he couldn’t, there seemed to be nothing to breath. A hand came to his chest as he stepped into the sun, still solid, nothing weird. He thought perhaps he was dreaming. 

A dream would have been a fine thing. 

He would have kept on this path of a dream if he hadn’t turned round to see his body still slumped against the tree. Making a few noises of disbelief and walking back he realised he was in fact still dead and he had not passed on. He was a ghost, or something. Which was ridiculous as ghosts don’g exist, but he was living (well, dead) proof. 

He knelt down in front of his body and frowned at himself. How stupid could he have been. He sighed and stood back up, brushing his waistcoat and tidying himself, he may be dead but he still had to look presentable. He just wished that his ‘ghost’ form had foregone the bullet wound. A horrid reminder. 

Thomas looked to the sky and took a step back, jumping as he hit something solid. He blinked a few times, not sure what to do. Clearly a ghost could not hit something solid because they would pass through it but there was definitely something solid behind him. Taking a deep breath he turned. 

“Hi, I’m Kitty! I used to live here, in the house, before you did! Oh, I’m so glad you stayed here! I’ve been needing a new friend!”

A scream echoed across the field. 

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────


	3. The Next Half an Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The short chain of events following his death.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Perhaps screaming at the girl in front of him wasn’t the best plan but instinct took over. She didn’t even seem dangerous but that was besides the point. Hiding was also not one of his proudest moments. (He would be glad in a few months time that Kitty didn’t have a mean bone in her body meaning he could deny it happened for the rest of his (life?) death.) 

The only hiding place however was behind the tree, which wasn’t really hiding as all the women in pink needed to do was walk two steps to her left to see him, however, she seemed to take pity and leave him be.

He turned away from the grass to face the lake, watching the sun glint off it as it continued to rise, and then he waited. Waited for what felt like an eternity until he heard the noise of footfalls on the grass and shouting. His brother had finally awoken (too little too late he thought bitterly) and was coming to find him. He moved out from behind the tree and sat next to his body, pulling his knees up to his chest as he watched his brother approach.

He watched the figure get closer and he began chewing on his lip, guilt twisting in his mind and anxiety pooling in his stomach. 

Edmund was still, mostly, in his nightclothes, clearly having not long woken. The only part of him not dressed for bed were his boots. The servant that had followed him out was stood just behind, looking sombre. Thomas felt the need to say something, to apologise before he realised he couldn’t. The horror that he had died and his last words had been scribbled onto several small bits of parchment was catching up too him. 

Edmund looked both distraught and angry as he dropped down by his body. He could see the tears at the corner of his eyes and the shake of his fists as Edmund went to grab him. Hands closed around his shoulder and Thomas watched as his brother shook him gently before realisation set in. He was too late. 

His hands dropped down and fingers grazed along the bullets exit wound, Thomas shivered out of sympathy, as if he could feel it. Most of the blood on his waistcoat had dried in the morning breeze so chipped and flaked off of his fingers, the small patches that were wet clung to the ends of his fingernails. 

“Thomas.... Thomas you idiot. You should have told me! Let me know about the change. What did you think you’d gain from this?” 

Thomas’ mind had begun to wonder but his brother talking had dragged him back to the present. Another wave of guilt hit as he listened. Thomas liked to think he and done the right thing but hearing that he knew Edmund was right- he was an idiot. He’d made a stupid mistake, a sudden reckless choice, because his pride had been bruised and he’d paid for it in blood. 

His brother had always supported him yet judged him for his ways. He had never been interested in fighting or learning about the family trade, he wanted to write and Edmund had fully supported that. He had his skills and could hold his own, of course, but he realised, watching this, that even after all this years his brother was going to think him incompetent. That he couldn’t even fight in a duel, couldn’t defend himself. He was sure Edmund knew the difference between entry and exit wounds, would know he was shot through the back, that truly he had no choice! Words stuck in his throat and he wanted to shout, to try and communicate what he knew- that Byron was a dirty cheat- but as he opened his mouth, a weak noise, almost like a sob broke through the silence as his brain reminded him that it would be a futile endeavour. 

Whilst this was happening their servant had gathered up the guns, replacing them in the box and locking it again, getting rid of evidence. He cleared his throat to remind Edmund of his presence and was promptly sent on his way, Edmund promising he’d be on his way back with the body soon. 

Thomas wasn’t sure what to do with himself, to stay on the grounds or to follow back to the house. He debated this as he kept his eyes on his brother, watching as his nightshirt began to stain green and become wet from the grass, it would have been at this moment Thomas would have made quip about both of them ruining perfectly good clothes with grass staining but who would have heard. 

Edmund sat there, next to his body, holding his hand and sighing, his fingers running across his knuckles. Thomas moved closer and he could see the frown on his face as the wheels turned in his head; thinking of the next steps. He’d have to contact their mother, organise a funeral, have his things moved or sold, so many of those things they had considered and even talking about but not seriously. Never seriously. Neither one had really seen this coming. 

Finally, after what seemed hours, Edmund moved, standing up slowly and then with effort picking up his body. It looked almost ridiculous as Thomas was the taller of the two. Edmund had always been stronger though. Thomas watched him retreat for a moment, weighing up his own options but eventually following. He had to see this through, no matter how morbid it seemed. A part of him was also interested to see if he could enter the manor. He had seemingly already resigned himself to spending eternity outside but he really hoped he could enter the manor.

He stayed a few steps back as he followed, looking like a lost animal, and as the manor came into sight he noticed the other servants coming outside to meet his brother and help with his body. He stood at the edge of the grass and looked up at the manor, almost wistfully, scanning the windows and deciding that it couldn’t be too bad of a place to spend eternity. That was until he noticed the figures in the window of the downstairs parlour. Another scream escaped him. 

He stared at them and they stared back. He recognised the woman from earlier (Kitty, if he remembered correctly) as well as a what looked like a homeless peasant, a rabid man, and a body.... just a body. He managed to regain his composure as Kitty waved at him, beckoning him inside with a smile. 

He went to take a step forward but felt a wave of nausea hit him and he felt as though he could collapse again but he managed to catch himself. He could do this. This was his life now and he had to accept that. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by horses coming down the drive and into the courtyard. A doctor. Of course. He watched as the doctor stepped out and was met by Edmund who at some point had entered and gotten dressed. He must have missed that as he realised then his body was not outside anymore.

He watched them have a quiet conversation and then they both walked inside, the doctor following Edmund inside into the parlour. He decides to test if he could enter and tailed the doctor in. It was a pleasant surprise to find he could however he was stopped in his tracks as he could see his own body on the chaise long and the others, that he had seen in the window, stood around it. They must have looked up due to the doctor entering but it still felt weird to suddenly have three pairs of eyes on you. Kitty waved again, clearly still trying to relax him. He waved back this time, he was however, still frowning. 

He finally took that last step and entered the room fully but still hung near the doorway, an easy escape and also he still didn’t really want to acknowledge that this was happening. He was so transfixed on his own body and the movement of the doctor that he humped slightly as he heard a cough next to him, he dared to look over and although he managed to hold back a scream, Thomas still let out an undignified string of noises due to the fact that there was a head on the table;

“Oi, Thomas! It was Thomas? Can you give me a lift? Body’s over there and I’d like to be returned to it.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────


	4. A Lot Can Change In Ten Years (unless you’re a ghost)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look into the decade following is death and how the world changed but he didn’t.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

It took a few days for the initial shock to wear off but once he was feeling almost himself again, Thomas relaxed into the atmosphere of the house. He had to learn his place in the house hierarchy, which was the bottom, he tried to argue that as current owner (‘former owner’ ‘thank you, Mary!’) he should really be towards the top of the hierarchy however the people whom he now had to live with were adamant that as the newest member to their ‘family’ he had to earn his place and he wasn’t doing anything to help himself. What made it worse was Robin had the gall to call him out (or call him out as best he could) for being stuck up and selfish. 

He was sure he was going to hate it but he could deal with his house mates another time. There were more pressing things for Thomas to deal with. Like watching his family plan his funeral. 

The funeral was small and swift, kept quiet unless you were family. His death wasn’t shameful but advertising how he had died was not something the family wanted to do. They didn’t need more grief with Byron. They’d suffered enough.

After his funeral he watched his family slowly get back to normality. It was bizarre and it left a horrid taste in his mouth. Seeing them move on without him, it hurt more than he had imagined it would.

His mother, Enfys Olwyn Thorne, moved back into the manor, moving out of London was something she had wanted to do since their father died but she hadn’t wanted to intrude on his and his brothers lifestyle but Edmund had offered and she had happily agreed. His brother started courting again which he had found confusing but they had been close, he needed someone to fill the void he had left. 

Thomas spent most of his days idle, there was not much to do as a ghost and he still wasn’t on the best of terms with the others so when his brother brought prospective wives home he always had some fun judging his choices. He wished he could be there to be the ‘annoying’ but adorable younger brother; he had judged them all and he was sure several of them would have ended up in his arms (and his bed too) rather than his brothers. It would have annoyed Edmund to no end, Thomas sweeping his matches from under him. It was those days that made him almost feel alive again.

Not all of his days were like that though, on others he prayed to escape it all. Even nothingness after death would have been better than this. He had never realised how boring the same four walls could become to he tried to spend hours in the back rooms or the attic, to get away from his family but also to fight off the boredom. Some days were easier than others but others he found himself giving into the melancholy and dark thoughts. He was sure if he was not dead, and this was his life, he would have tried to end it all. 

What felt like years but in reality has only been a few months after his death he found himself on the grounds near the lake, staring at the tree where he’d been shot. He moved around and sat on the edge of the lake, looking across. He’d always loved this spot, the lake was peaceful and was a welcome retreat in the heat of summer. He remembers years ago, a teenager, taking men and women out for some swimming. His parents were always furious when they found out but it was worth it. He was deep into this thought train when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. It was enough of a surprise to get him to turn to see who had come. 

He came face to face with Kitty who offered him a smile as she sat next to him, the hem of her dress dipping into the water but not saturating. Thomas wasn’t sure what to say, he’d been awfully rude to her for months, she’d only been trying to help and he had brushed her off. He opened his mouth to say something, to apologise but she beat him too it. 

‘I always liked coming out here too. I always had to have someone accompany me but it’s very lovely out here!’

He felt his face soften as she continued to chatter away about the lake and then her life and the other things she enjoyed. She informed him that she had always enjoyed reading and she knew that he was poet and enjoyed reading too. Kitty seemed to have a knack for getting people to talk as he hadn’t even realised that this one sided ramble had turned into a conversation. They talked into the sunset and as it began to get dark Thomas stood and offered his hand to her, as she stood ip he kissed her hand, causing her to laugh and he was sure if they could blush she would be. As they walked back toward the manor, arms linked, Thomas realised he felt alive again. 

Wanting to experience that again he found himself seeking out Kitty more and more, especially when he was feeling sad. He was scared at one point that he may be falling for her however after talking to himself he realised that no, it was not love but he had found a kindred spirit in her. 

He thought about their friendship and came to the conclusion that she was nothing like the women he would have associated himself with while alive; she was immature, younger than her years, loud, brash, and childish but she listened. 

She listened it and that helped Thomas more than he realised. He was so used to putting quill to paper when he had to express himself that he had forgotten how good it was to talk. Katherine became a sister to him and managed to save him when he didn’t even realised he needed it and for that he would always owe her a debt.

As his relationship with Kitty blossomed his relationships with the others didn’t; He didn’t interact much with Mary and Robin at all in fact. They avoided each other out of a mutual respect. They didn’t want to know and he didn’t really care. Kitty had tried a few time to encourage him to talk to them but if they were not making the effort why should he!

Thomas was always polite to them but interacting was always a struggle, he could hardly understand either of them and they didn’t want to listen to him when he tried to help. It was mutual destruction on both parts.

Humphrey was hit and miss- no matter how hard he tried, even after almost a year, Thomas still wasn’t happy with talking to a disembodied head. His redeeming feature though was that he was a good conversationalist and he had some fascinating stories! Thomas was always a sucker for a good story. 

He had always been interested in History and talking to someone who had met, and had been a favourite, of one of the most notorious Kings of England was almost enough to convince him this may be a good thing. 

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

That first year of death, even after finding a friend, seemed to crawl by slowly, the months seemed to drag on and he was sure he could never cope with eternity if eternity was this slow.

His ‘death day’ (as Kitty dubbed it) approached and the living people in the house were melancholy. This passed and it seemed that time decided to speed up. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was focusing on his family less (Thomas realised that the living get boring. The same thing day after day) or if his mind was now used to his own mundane and boring life of ghost-hood. 

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

His brother finally found a wife, Charity Rose Florez, about 18 months after his death, and the wedding was held on the grounds. It was a small affair and as much as he felt he shouldn’t be permitted himself to watch the ceremony, Kitty by his side, before retreating away from the party. He had seen the important bit, he didn’t want to let the festivities bring hIs mood down. He was happy that brother decided to stay in the manor however as Thomas was enamoured with his wife, she was exactly what Edmund deserved, and even in death Thomas was proud to call her his sister in law. 

A few months after the wedding the house turned somber again as their mother died. Thomas had seen her getting ill and had approached Humphrey and Kitty in a concerned way asking if there’s any chance she would become a ghost too; they’d both shrugged and told him straight- they weren’t sure although Humphrey did let him know, away from Kitty, that if she died of natural causes there’s less chance. He did ask Humphrey why he made that assumption and he explained that the theme with them all seemed to be ‘unfair death’ or a ‘tragic accident’. This was all the headless man had said leaving Thomas with more questions than answers but at least it put his fears to rest that he could end up spending eternity with his mother. (She eventually ended up passing in her sleep and did not stick around.)

Once Edmund had recovered from her death he retreated happily into married life. He was unaware that the ghosts were there of course but they all co-existed peacefully. Well, as peacefully as Thomas could, there were times over the coming years that he felt taunted by his life.

These ‘times’ happened to be Edmund and Charity having children. Two daughters, a son; Frances Ann Thorne, Jemima Rose Thorne, Edmund Issac Thorne II, and they also had another on the way. Thomas was enamoured with his nieces and nephew but he did feel jealous too. There had also been an incident after Kitty had asked if he was offended that his brother hadn’t named their son after him; he’d claimed he wasn’t but the tone in his voice said otherwise.

There were times he wished he could be alive (like when Frances fell off a swing in the courtyard and no one could hear her crying from inside and he had to watch helplessly) but most of the time Thomas was content to still be dead. He has finally come to terms with it. The pangs for life were few and far between now but the biggest one, when he’d really felt the loss for life was when Edmunds fourth child was born. 

It was around Thomas’ death day which is why he’d been sulking near the lake. Everyone knew to leave him alone and he’d be back later which is why he was about to cross words with whoever was approaching. The silence had been broken by laughing as he turned he noticed it was Edmund and Charity. His anger subsided and his face softened and be watched with a smile as Edmund laid out a blanket and offered her a place to sit. Thomas was about to be a gentleman deciding to move, not wanting to eavesdrop, but he heard his name mentioned, and curious he stayed. 

He should have left, really, it was almost big headed to sit there and listen to Edmund talk about him at length. He felt compelled to stay though and was glad he did as the last few lines took him by surprise; it was almost the tenth anniversary of his death. Ten years. He should have been 37. All thoughts of leaving had left his head, now all that was there were thoughts of how little had changed for him in the last decade and how much they had changed for his brother via loss of life and new life too.

He’d been deep in thought and almost forgotten where he was until he heard screaming; looking up he turned to see Charity almost doubled over in pain and Edmund squeezing her hand and taking off toward the house, Thomas was almost horrified of his action until he heard him shouting for the doctor. He had invested in an ‘in-house’ doctor years earlier under the guise of ‘the children’. Thomas knew it was partly that and partly for other reasons but that didn’t matter. 

Watching Edward leave Thomas decided that even though he couldn’t be seen he could be a calming energy and he approached Charity and sat down just next to her. He wanted to place a hand on her shoulder but restrained himself. 

He sat there until Edmund came back with the doctor, who quickly confirmed that she had gone into labour. Neither Edmund or Charity wanted it to happen but the doctor explained that if someone called for back up he could deliver the baby there in the field. It wouldn’t be pretty but it was the best option for mother and baby at this time. Thomas stepped back toward the tree and politely averted his gaze, waiting till he heard the cry of a child before looking again. He heard the doctor announce it was a boy and turned just in time to watch Edmund smile proudly at the child in his arms.

Thomas felt his chest swell and he was sure if could cry he would have. His heart full for his brother but as Charity’s next words he could have burst; 

‘Ed... you said... It was almost the anniversary... and he died... here? Thomas.... We’ll call him Thomas’ 

He saw his brother nod as he handed their newborn to her. He heard her coo ‘Thomas.... Thomas Thorne...’ and he felt a lump in his throat. He was sure it was happiness but a part of him was telling him he was disappointed. He was overwhelmed but seeing this, the birth of his fourth nephew, had hit home for him that this was not his life anymore. 

He was not alive, not actually a part of this family whom he’d come to love and for the first time in almost ten years he felt the anger and resentment for Lord Byron rise to the top again. 

Ten years had passed and nothing had changed for him; he was still 27, still in the clothes he died in, and trapped in limbo in his own family home. He had an eternity of this to endure and he wasn’t sure if he could face it anymore. 

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────


	5. The Thornes Become the Buttons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The deeds to the house change hands and we get a small look into domestic ghostly life

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

After a decade of being dead the years seemed to slip past at a frightening speed.

The kids grew up in the blink of an ehe; Frances married early and moved to Scotland by age 20 much to both of her parents disagreement. (Thomas had overheard her and her friend talking about him; she’d met him at another friend’s soirée apparently, Finley Oliver Malloch). 

Despite their age gap Edmund II and Thomas II both planned to move away to university and go into the city, live their life there instead of staying in the countryside. After they had announced this their father had agreed but through laughter, after receiving puzzled looks from his sons he explained that they were both living up to their name sakes perfectly; brothers and best friends despite the age gap. 

Due to neither of the male heirs wanting the manor, the deeds were left to Jemima. This surprised Thomas slightly although he was aware times had changed, and perhaps a bachelor house in the country wasn’t as sought after now. He was confident, however, Jemima would look after it and perhaps keeping it as a family home would do it well, after all he and Edmund hadn’t done much with it but since he had married Charity the house had been much brighter.

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Thomas wanted to keep up with the family life, it was one of the few things keeping him sane, the small snippets of life moving were what pushed him on. He still felt connected to them. He had been told many times by the others that hanging onto the living wasn’t a good idea but he had too, they were his family, his direct family! He was content in his lot until Charity died in 1837, this had come as a shock to the whole family. Thomas ignored the voice at the back of his head telling him he needed to back of up until 1840; Edmund passed, almost three years to the day of Charity’s death. It was at that moment, as he stared at his brothers corpse, the realisation that he had to move on suddenly hit him. 

He did manage to do this, it took a while but eventually all of the children moved our which meant the house was quiet. For a few years, Jemima was the sole owner of the house which meant not a lot was happening, Thomas could drift aimlessly around the house with the others. He was still building up a good relationship with Kitty and Humphrey was beginning to become a friend too. Once he’d distanced himself from his family he realised that perhaps he should build some bridges, be civil with Mary and Robin too. 

This went better than he had expected; after he had settled fully (around 15 years into his death) he started trying to teach Robin to talk and communicate better; for the sake of everyone, of course. It hadn’t been going too well- ‘Me... speak english!’ ‘I! I speak english!’- but he was improving. 

Lessons were slow and in the beginning it seemed as if Robin wasn’t retaining anything Thomas had tried to teach him but, there were slow improvements. Within a year Robin was able to better communicate with everyone and it really did make life a lot easier for the whole household. There was a turning point in their friendship though, in 1843 Robin asked Thomas to help with a ritual for the lunar eclipse; it was messy, unorganised, and made little to no sense, but it was a fun group activity and it really did feel as though it brought them all together.

Mary was an entirely different story. Thomas tried to work on her but she wasn’t budging. They managed to find a neutral ground during the lunar ritual but that was as close to friends they would come. 

Whilst all this was going on Thomas had almost forgotten about their other house inhabitant but in that same year, 1943, Jemima married George Miles Button II, the son of a disgruntled but well known politician. Thomas reflected on it once and decided that it was an ofd match and was a marriage of convenience. Jemima was getting on and needed to marry but she had also always been a climber and although he was very much above her station, this was exactly what she needed.

It was a swift affair and after the marriage had been consummated ‘Thorne Manor’ became ‘Button Hall’. Kitty had been prepared for Thomas to be upset at the family house changing hands but she found him in good spirits. Thomas was shocked to find that he actually felt relieved. He hadn’t thought about it before but after the name change he realised that having the manor still titled ‘Thorne’ was what had been keeping him engaged, wanting life, wanting to hold on that little bit longer to his ‘humanity’! It was the last thing attaching him to the house and his ‘old life’. He and the others stood outside and watched the plaque change. As the last few screws were tightened he felt a weight lift off his shoulders, he felt as though he was now just another piece of the houses history. 

A ghost of the past, if you will.

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Despite the marriage the house remained fairly silent for a few years- Jemima and George were living in quiet domestic bliss. They had all been hopeful for something to happen as if nothing exciting was happening for the living then nothing exciting was happening for the ghosts either. 

Thomas had learnt (from Humphrey) that if the ‘living’ people were boring then their lives were boring too, which Thomas didn’t quite understand, he knew there wasn’t much to do as a ghost but Humphrey explained that family drama kept everyone entertained. Thomas had asked what Humphrey meant by ‘drama’ and he’d defected the question. Not one to be denied answer he cornered Mary and asked her as he knew she’d answer. He wasn’t sure what he expected but he was left red faced and regretting his choices at her words; ‘Well, drama like when you was alive and you was sneaking in those men! And you thought your brother didn’t know!’

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Time seemed to drag but in 1849 and then just over a year later in 1850, two new additions joined the ‘Button Hall’ ranks: Henrietta Eliza and Honour Olivia. 

Babies were always exciting and Kitty was immediately coo’ing over the newborns!. Thomas had clocked it briefly when Jemima and the others were born but Robin went into a defence mode. One night when sitting near Honour’s crib he asked Robin who didn’t answer as such, just mumbled something about ‘units’ and ‘family’ and ‘everyone protect everyone’. It was the first time Thomas had really seen a softer side to the cave man. In the world of the living, Jemima was enamoured with her daughters, however, her husband was less than impressed. 

This was the first time that the differences in upbringing had caused a stir; George had wanted a son. He’d just come from that type of family where the men took over and the women were married off as soon as possible. The more men the better, which was almost the opposite of Jemima’s upbringing. 

She wanted to educate the children herself, as her mother had for her, but George sent them into the village with a nanny and Jemima hardly saw them, only in the evenings and often very briefly. Thomas was surprised to see the effect this had on both Kitty and Mary, he was sure neither of them had had children of their own but perhaps, being women, they could sympathise with her. Jemima moped around the house and it was heartbreaking to see, she only seemed to perk up around the kids. George was away on business a lot so he wasn’t even part of her happiness anymore.

The atmosphere in the house was tense for years, it effected everyone, however, when Jemima fell pregnant with their third child the whole dynamic changed again. 

George came back from an extended visit to the city, and announced to Jemima and in children that they were moving to London. His father had died whilst he was visiting (this the ‘extended visit’) and the London estate was now empty! George being the eldest had inherited it and had already started the process for moving in.  
Jemima was just glad that the kids were excited, but at ages 6 and 7 they would be. 

She managed to keep her cool until the evening. After the kids were asleep, there was an argument. It was explosive and disturbed the whole house. Thomas was shocked to find that the other ghosts were surprised by the argument but seemed mostly unaffected,using the excuse ‘these things happen’.

He, however, was horrified. 

He knew arguments happened. He had heard his own parents argue throughout his childhood and he has witnessed Edmund and Charity had a few spats but this felt different. He wasn’t sure why but it shook him to the core and left him rattled. It felt invasive and he tried to explain to the others what he felt! The occupants didn’t know there were five other people watching! He felt like he was breaking their privacy.

It was an uncomfortable evening. Thomas was awake well into the early hours and at some point Kitty had come to sit with him, she asked him to explain his feelings again and she let him talk. He spoke about the privacy; and how, for the first time, he felt like an intruder. He was seeing things they didn’t want you to see. Kitty smiled and offered the most grown up words he’d heard; she told him that it gets easier, it doesn’t feel like it but, one day you just learn to find a quiet space and ignore what’s happening. You tune it out. He still wasn’t happy but it was nice to have some reassurance. 

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The next few days were tense for everyone. Jemima and George hardly spoke but still, by the end of the week, the Buttons had moved out. Leaving the house empty and quiet. 

It felt weird to be plunged into silence but Robin, Mary, and Humphrey seemed relieved. One afternoon when they all happened to be in the same room Kitty asked why the trio were so happy, they explained to them both that this was the first time the house had been empty since around the 1750’s. A whole century of people in their space and finally peace. 

Thomas expected it to be a difficult adjustment but he found himself relaxing into their new life and empty home. He felt free. There wasn’t much, if anything, to so but it was nice to be able to walk around the house without worrying about walking in on something untoward. 

Thomas had been horrified the first time he’d walked in on his brother having sex. He had been avoiding the bedroom for that reason and then no, he finds him in the library! He had flapped about it for days until Mary just told him straight that ‘it happens’ and to ‘gets used to it’.

The house was quiet for around 25 years. 

25 years seemed both a long time and short time but 1881 a carriage pulled up throwing the ghosts once again into family life. 

The couple that stepped out looked very well to-do, very prim and proper. However, there was something not very ‘prim and proper’ about them which Thomas clocked almost immediately- the woman was pregnant and didn’t seem to have a wedding band on. Something very scandalous.

The ghosts as much as they would loath to admit it were excited for new people and were stood in the entryway, listening to the conversation as the couple stepped inside; 

‘The wedding ring will be delivered here in the next few days... my mother has kindly donated it... This place is a tip’

‘George, it has been empty for twenty five years. We’ll just have to make it our own. Your mother said the nursery may still be intact so we can move him into it immediately. I know you’re not fond of the country but it’s going to be lovely, raising our kids away from the city’

‘We’re not going to be staying here long. As soon as my father’s passed we’re taking the London residence. So, don’t be getting any foolish ideas Fanny’ 

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────


	6. Frances ‘Fanny’ Button née Lyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small dive into the marriage that was doomed to fail from the beginning.

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Thomas didn’t like the new house companions. 

Well, actually, that was a lie. He liked Fanny; she was slightly uptight, very traditional but she was harmless and had a seemingly heart of gold. She was clearly attempting to make the best of the situation she’d found herself in. 

Thomas hadn’t wanted to pry but no one giving anything about the situation away which is why he had taken to reading her letters over her shoulder. She wrote a lot of letters, almost every day she was reading and responding to one. It took a week or so but Thomas finally found who she was writing too; her mother. The letters ranged from ‘Yes, i’m having a good time, the house needs some care but it’s lovely’ to point blank asking for forgiveness. It was a bizarre juxtaposition. Thomas found it understandable though, asking her family for forgiveness. The situation she had found herself in was not the best and Thomas could just tell that neither her or his family were probably too happy. 

Thinking about her husband, Thomas estimated that the man she had arrived with was his ‘great-nephew’, George Button III, who, if they had estimated the years right, was around 25. This was a fine age to marry, in his prime and with a lot of historical power behind him however Fanny seemed to be years younger. This was also common but he felt as though Fanny was not quite ready for this. He wouldn’t have openly offered a guess on her age as ladies did not deserve such rudeness but he did make a mental calculation that she had to be at least five, possibly six, years his junior. This age gap was totally fine, he and Kitty both agreed that five years was not much, but it did help offer a small explanation as to why they had moved into Button Hall. 

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From snippets of conversations and reading over shoulders the ghosts, as a group, had worked out that George had gotten Frances (or Fanny as she preferred to be know) pregnant by accident. A one-night-fling at a party. Thomas said to the others this that this helped explain why poor Fanny was asking for forgiveness from her family; had she been lower class this wouldn’t have mattered much, if at all. The lower classes tried to uphold the marriage laws but they all knew things happened, especially when the rich were involved. Asking for forgiveness was the most she could do at this point. They’d married to attempt to uphold status but that mustn’t have been enough. Neither of them seemed happy with this arrangement, there was a hostility in the air that hung over both their heads. A regret. Thomas was impressed with Fanny though, she at least seemed to attempt to make the most of it, George seemed to be content with sulking and drinking. Kitty hd overheard him say he missed his parties and his friends. It was not a pleasant atmosphere to be around. The had all hoped that the house would be pleasant for all but it wasn’t, it was tense and no one was sure what would happen next. 

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The first year was tough on everyone, living and dead.

Thomas made an extra effort to spend a time with Kitty. After years of peace the disruption was upsetting her, she was struggling with the tone and was more unhappy than usual. He assumed years of happy marriage would do that to you, give you a wild idea of how love works. (He’s expressed this to Mary who had promptly laughed at him. He still wasn’t sure why). 

He made sure to keep her spirits up anyway he could. He’s spend time in her room indulging her fantasies and recounting stories to her. Thomas had gotten used to the mood of the house and if he felt as though an argument was about to be had he’d take her on a walk, up towards the lake where they’d sit and talk for as long as was needed. 

He wasn’t sure what he was protecting her against and he felt like he was possibly intruding but she was clearly unhappy. He was sure this could not have been the first unhappy marriage she had ever seen, but it felt nice to be useful again. He could finally return the favour from all those years ago. He helped he smile and that, on some days, was enough. 

Robin, Mary, and Humphrey were all mostly unbothered by it all. He had asked why they seemed to immune to the feelings of the house and they gently reminded him they’d all been there a lot long than he and Kitty had. They’d seen this all before and were used to it. Robin explained in his own way that a tense atmosphere happened from time to time and you learn to live with it, just as you do the happy. 

He thought that after all these reassurances it would be easier, it wasn’t. 

In fact it only seemed to get worse. Fanny gave birth to a daughter in the January of 1882 and despite the fact she was gorgeous she only seemed to add to the sour taste in everyones mouths. George didn’t want to be around the new Button, he wasn’t disgusted per se but he was clearly not to keen in children. Fanny was enamoured with her child, she fawned over her and desperately kept trying to get George to engage with her but he wouldn’t listen. 

When she was around two months old he hired a full time nanny, using the excuse that Fanny had gone soft and that the upper-classes didn’t tend to their own children. He also thought it might help to stop Fanny bothering him about the child.   
The ghosts however were all enamoured with the newborn. New life was always fun. After the nanny incident Fanny became distant and it seemed as if the dead were the only ones who cared for the child. 

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Robin spent a lot of time by her basket as he had done for the previous children and Thomas joined him this time, Cora couldn’t see them but they both settled on an agreement that a presence in the room would help her to settle. 

Kitty tried to play peek-a-boo and no one had the heart to remind her she couldn’t be seen. It was nice to see her back to herself. It felt like a turning point for everyone. The newest Button may have added more cracks to an already broke marriage but for the ghosts she had brought some well needed joy. 

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Time passed and the family didn’t seem to recover from the issues that had happened almost a decade ago. Fanny had lost her energy in those years as George began to distance himself even more. They slept in separate rooms and George made many an excuse to head into the city. 

The littlest Button was raised mainly by the nanny though often saw Fanny around the house. She was an adorable child and had grown up into the most polite pre-teen. She was tutored at Button Hall until aged 10 when George turned around and announced that she was to be sent to a boarding school in London. 

Cora had been heartbroken at the announcement but no one listened. Fanny silently agreed to keep the peace and George had walked away before the child could offer any counter points. That summer was difficult, with Cora acting up hoping that she could be rude enough to be kept home. A rude child would soil the good name! Nothing worked and she was stood in the doorway of Button Halls with her things in almost tears on the 30th of August. 

Fanny was with her and had knelt down by her side. The ghosts watched with interest as Fanny had kept her distance since the announcement had been made. She brushed aside Coras’ hair and kissed her forehead;

‘Daddy and I will be in London with you soon enough! He’s waiting for the estate deeds to pass to him... We love you.’ 

It sounded both hopeful and tragic. The words felt hollow and without any other ceremony, Cora was sent on her way in the carriage. As it pulled away the ghosts watched Fanny as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. The first sign of emotion she’d shown in a while and it broke Thomas’ heart. He wasn’t sure why she hadn’t spoken up if she was truly this torn over it! The answer to that question was answered a few days later. 

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With Cora gone the house was silent. Fanny paced, she read, she did some sewing, she paced, she read, she sewed. An endless cycle of monotony. George was in London trying to finalise the house there, they hadn’t started to pack up Button Hal yet but there had been a promise of moving out made. 

George came back from London in a weird mood. He’d brought friends back with him and they excused themselves to the drawing room almost as soon as they arrived. Fanny didn’t even get to welcome her husband home, she was just handed a note and told to leave them be. Any information not in the note would be passed on come morning. 

Thomas had expected the others to follow Fanny toward the library and Kitty did but the others didn’t, they all stood next to the drawing room listening. Not this piqued Thomas’ interest as this was the first time he had seen any of them actively engage in what was happening in the house. 

Walking over he asked them about it and was greeted with some shrugs, vague answers and shushes. Thomas made the connection that whatever they were listening for must be important so he made a mental note to apologise to Kitty and stayed with the others. They seemed to sit there for hours until Mary perked up and without hesitation stuck her head through the wall, pulling out, grinning, and fully pushing herself through the wall. 

Robin, along with Humphrey’s head, followed her into the drawing room and Thomas had a feeling in his gut that he should leave well alone but the urge to see what they had been waiting for was strong so he followed suit. 

The sight he was greeted with was not what he wished to have seen, ever. There, over the table, was George. He turned to Mary, spluttering in shock but he was waved off. Robin chimed in with the very comforting words of ‘Watching people have sex is all fun we get. We didn’t watch before because they related to you. Thought rude’ 

Which, well, at least they had the decency to be respectful but he was still horrified but he found he couldn’t, or more to the point, didn’t want to walk away. Mary and Robin seemed to be enthralled by the action and were watching intently. It made his skin crawl but as he continued to watch the men he had the realisation of what they had meant all those years ago about ‘family drama’. This. This was a scandal waiting to happen.

The sex seemed to go on forever but also, for the others, not long enough. The men were cleaning up and George pointed them to their rooms before laughing and slapping one of them on the back stating ‘well, at least i’ll be able to please my wife tonight. She’s been at me that she wants another child but truly I can’t stand her!’ 

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The next morning everyone was woken by the sounds of arguing, a 360 from the evening before where everyone got their desserts. Fanny and George were in the common room fighting over the move to London. George had wanted for years to get out of the countryside and back into the city but had suddenly had a change of heart. Fanny couldn’t understand why but the ghosts could guess. 

The privacy of the countryside was a welcome for George to get up to all sorts of things. Thomas felt himself beginning to judge but his brain reminded him that he had done the exact same thing when he was alive. 

They had both forgotten they had guests staying so their argument was cut short as George’s friends appears in the doorway. Not a good first impression. George looked sour and Fanny looked embarrassed to have been caught shouting. It was unladylike and she had shown herself up. She dipped her head as George sternly introduced eveyone. She excused herself and as she left she could have sworn she heard one of his friends comment on her appearance. 

Thomas was sad to say he was already enjoying this. It was awful to see the Lady Button suffer but it was exciting. He felt awful for thinking that but it was the truth. ‘Family Drama’ really was interesting even if it did feel off. 

That evening George retired with his friends to drink and play cards again and the scenes played out exactly as the previous night. The young men indulged themselves in sexual acts, George saw them all to bed, and then retied to see Fanny. The ghosts tried to avoid watching Fanny and George as it was awkward for everyone, all partied were aware the you g man didn’t find her sexually appealing so it more out of duty that he was doing this. 

This same event repeated for several days until Friday afternoon when George’s friends had to make their excuses to head back to London. It was a fond farewell from the couple and George promising that he would be in London again soon. 

Once they had left the house felt empty again. Robin and Mary were on edge, neither were sure if Fanny had clocked onto what her husband was doing and if she was going to call him out. She never did. 

Thomas was surprised that George had gotten away with it, being so bold, but Fanny was the dutiful wife, George had sent her away so she didn’t disturb. 

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A few weeks after this incident Fanny started to feel ill. A doctor was sent for and everyone was concerned for her health however after a quick examination the doctor found the cause; she was pregnant again. 

The ghosts had expected her to ecstatic, she had been asking for another child but now she seemed unsure. Thomas suspected that she was aware of her husbands infidelity but the others brushed him off, telling him there was no way she knew. Still, the announcement sat heavy with everyone. 

When Cora came home for the summer she was excited to hear she’d be getting a sibling in the new years. She asked could she name him and George and Fanny agreed, both silently thankful. Cora suggested they name him Benjamin which they both agreed suited the family and they promised her that should Fanny have a boy, they would name him that. 

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The pregnancy went smoothly up until the point of birth. It ended up being a struggle to push and the doctor wasn’t sure if baby or mother were going to make it. The ghosts were there, of course, and at the news she may die they all shared a look; what if she stays? 

Luckily, both child and mother were alright. Benjamin was born healthy and Fanny was told despite the trauma she would heal but the doctor advised against having any more children. It was a shock, not that she had imagined having more than two, but to have that taken from her at 30 was a surprise. George on the other hand tried to suppress his happiness, to him, no more children meant no more awkward intercourse with her. He had every right to refuse her now. 

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Fanny stayed in her room for a few weeks, recovering slowly. She didn’t see Benjamin often but wasn’t as concerned. She felt guilty in the small part of her brain that still cared but over the years she had learnt to block that out. 

The ghosts were, once again, enamoured and they all spent a lot of time in the nursery. Thomas still didn’t quite understand but he was getting there, this was the closest any of them would get and the second hand feeling was enough. 

Benjamin grew up in much the same was as Cora although he tutoring was more robust. He was sent, at age ten, to the boys version of the school Cora had attended. George visited Benjamin more often than he ever had his daughter, using the excuse that he had to help prepare him to take over the family name, and what better place to do that in London where the rest of the family were! 

Fanny was suspicious but bowed her head and nodded. In the last ten years she had steeled and become fierce in a way no one had expected. She was the perfect example of what a Lady should be and she was the model wife. Even now reaching 40, she was past her prime but heads still turned. She was in the process of trying to find a match for Cora. 

At 20 years of age she was perfect, ready to be snapped up by the man with the highest family money. This however, was not how things played out. 

Cora had stayed in the city after she bad graduated, living with friends near the school and assisting where she could to help earn a small wage. Fanny had been less than impressed but if that’s what her daughter wanted then fine, she could have it as long as she came back to the family when she wanted to marry and she had done. She turned up at the house one day along with a man which was very, very unladylike and Fanny made her well aware of that as she stepped in through the entranceway, snapping at her for being so casual about this! 

It was then Fanny noticed the ring on her daughters finger. Cora tried to explain in as calm a voice as possible the story if how she had met Clarence; they had met two years ago whilst she was out with her friends, he had made a pass at her and she had been enamoured. They courted for a few months before he proposed and they were married a month later. This had been almost year ago. Cora Button was now Cora Hopewood. 

The argument that ensued was rough. Thomas and Kitty left the house to walk the grounds, neither wanting to see the fall out although both were on Cora’s side, marrying for love was in her best interests, she had seen the state of her parents marriage and neither could blame her for wanting to get out of that life before it even started.

When they got back to the house they found it solemn. Mary filled them in on what they had missed and they found out that Fanny had denounced Cora as her daughter. It made Thomas chest hurt to hear that, sweet Cora who had only done what was best for her, kicked from the family because her mother was too uptight to see. Kitty made the point that had this been even five years ago perhaps Lady Button would have been more lenient but it seemed final. Poor Cora. 

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Fanny seemed to harden even more after that. She seemed to disengage more and was going about her duties in such a fashion that was almost non-human. She hosted, she talked, she mothered when needed and that was her life for eight years. 

1908 was not a turning point as such but it was a year that brought with it much excitement. It was Benjamin’s 18th Birthday in the March which meant a large celebration was in order. The house was full and the ghosts enjoyed themselves for an evening, it was the happiest the house had been since Cora had left. 

The party or, more, the events after the party were what really changed everyones life. Two days after the party Benjamin left back for London, he had a few months of schooling left to finish, leaving the house empty save for Fanny, George, and the servants. 

The two were sleeping in different bedrooms again meaning both could retire when they felt like it. They had their own privacy. George had retired early that evening and had left Fanny on her own. The ghosts, knowing what was about to happen, all tailed George upstairs. Robin had said to them all he’d seen George asking the groundskeeper and the butler to his room. If he was correct, they should be in for a nice evening of entertainment. 

Fanny however, sat and read into the evening, until her eyes began to sting and she felt herself beginning to fall asleep in the chair. Without thinking of where she was going, letting her sleep addled brain lead the way, she headed towards George’s room, or their previously shared room. 

The ghosts were all stood near the back wall, watching the scene before the play out. It wasn’t pretty by any means and Thomas thought it looked more uncomfortable than anything. Humphrey was the first person to notice the door beginning to open. He managed to distract them all enough to look over just as the door swung open. The men on the bed hadn’t seemed to notice the door but were pulled out of their own world by the sudden scream Fanny had let out. 

Thomas had never seen people move so fast to cover themselves. No one tried to defend what was happening and after Fanny had thrown a few choice words their way she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Well, that her certainly killed the mood. The men in the bed looked frantic and were clearly trying to figure out what was to happen next. The two servants were sure they were to be sent away come morning to help cover their tracks but George had shushed them both and sighed. 

He sent them away to their rooms with the promise of news come morning and he paced. The ghosts had left him too at this point, there was no need to watch an angry man pace, they could all feel what was coming. Another argument and possibly some kind of excuse for divorce. It would not end well for Fanny, this they were all sure of. 

The hours seemed to pass but none of them were asleep, the ghosts were sitting in the common room talking idly to each other, all of the disappointed by this evenings display. They were pulled out of their thoughts by a scream and not just any scream. A woman’s scream. 

They all shared a look, George had decided what to do about Fanny then. 

They were braced for more screams but none seemed to come, at least not from upstairs. They had come to an agreement to go and investigate what had happened but they were all stopped in their tracks by a familiar voice. 

‘What on earth are you all doing in my house!’

Turning they saw Lady Button stood in the doorway of the common room. Well, that was something none of them had seen coming. 

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────


End file.
